


There's More Than One of Everything

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Primeval/Chaos
Genre: Crossover, Doppelganger, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3991885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy encounters his doppelgänger and has a surprising reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's More Than One of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely nietie who gave the prompt “spy game”. Billy Collins is the character James Murray played in the TV show Chaos, a comedy drama about CIA operatives. Stephen Hart is the character James Murray played in Primeval.

“It's like looking into a mirror.”

Billy Collins stared through the one-way glass as his almost identical twin sat at a table opposite Director Higgins.

“Two Collins',” Michael said, grinning as he shook his head. “Sure fire sign of the Apocalypse.”

“Or that we're stuck in a horrible nightmare,” Casey added.

Billy rolled his eyes at the pair of them. “I still don't think it's fair that Higgins won't let me talk to the wee lad. He looks positively sickly.”

The others turned back to the glass and nodded in unison. The man before them was certainly dishevelled – his hair stuck up in all directions, he had a faded bruise on his cheek and what looked like bite marks on his hands and legs. He had no I.D. on him and was resolutely refusing to say a word.

“I would love to find out this guy's story,” Billy said.

“You're about to get your chance,” Higgins said, storming into the room. “Operative Collins, I want you to find out everything you can about him.” Higgins roughly passed Billy a manilla folder. “That's all we've got right now. I'll have one of our analysts bring down the results from facial recognition.” And with that he was gone, storming out of the room the same way he had come in.

“Oh, yes,” Billy breathed, “I have _got_ to meet the man that riled Higgins up that much.”

Michael shook his head. “Let's look at the file first.”

Billy shrugged but handed it over, then peered over Michael's shoulder as he flicked through it.

There wasn't much, just a series of satellite photos that only seemed to show some sort of sparkling light in the middle of the Nevada desert. Then shots of their guest being surrounded by guards from the nearby air force base.

“Where did he come from?” Martinez asked, brow scrunched up in confusion. “He couldn't have just appeared in the desert like that.”

“Clearly he did,” Casey said. He pulled a slip of paper from between Michael’s fingers and began to read it out loud. “At 19.00 hours our radio equipment began to malfunction. At 19.05 hours we were informed of a large pulsating light having appeared just outside the base. At 19.30 hours it was confirmed that the source of the electrical interference was the light. At 19.35 hours a Caucasian male fell out of the light onto the ground. At 19.36 hours he was arrested.” Casey stopped reading and handed the statement back to Michael. “We know the rest.”

“People don't just fall out of...lights,” Martinez insisted. Casey just looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Apparently, they do,” Casey said.

“Maybe he's an alien,” Billy said, “or an evil Russian clone.” He grinned at the others, his eyes crinkling in amusement. This was exactly the reason why he loved his job so much.

“Go talk to him,” Michael said. “Find out who he is, what he's doing here...why the hell he looks like you.”

“Be my pleasure,” Billy said with a wink.

* * * * *

Billy had to admit, he was a little disappointed when he walked into the interrogation room and his doppelgänger didn't show any sign of emotion; he was certainly a cool customer.

“So, welcome to Planet Earth,” Billy said. He turned the chair opposite the stranger around so he could straddle it and rest his arms on the back. “Is it _much_ like your world?”

That at least merited the slight twitching of the stranger's lips, so Billy winked in the direction of his colleagues behind the one-way glass. He could do this.

“Where am I?” the man asked, English accent unmistakable. Billy manfully resisted dancing in his seat, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face.

“You, sir, are in the wonderful US of A, land of the free. And apple pie to die for.”

“America,” the man said in a whisper. “What year is it?”

Billy blinked. Of all the questions he was expecting, that wasn't on the list.

“Year?” Billy asked. “It's 2011.”

“2011,” the man repeated. “I've been travelling that long...” He stared off into space and Billy took the opportunity to further study his face. He rubbed a hand along his own jaw. The similarities were truly remarkable, though the other man did look more weather beaten and worn around the eyes.

“What's your name?” Billy asked, after the silence had stretched on and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable at the places his mind was going.

“Stephen Hart,” the man said. “My name’s Stephen.”

“All right, Stephen Hart, why don't you tell me what's going on?”

Stephen stared at him, impossibly blue eyes locking on to his. “I'm pretty sure you don't have that kind of clearance.”

* * * * *

“He's refusing to say anything else until someone from the British embassy gets here,” Billy explained. He and the other members of the ODS were sitting in Higgins' office, with a very unimpressed looking Higgins.

“He's got a record of sorts,” Higgins said with a scowl in Billy's direction as if it was his fault. “Sealed by order of Her Majesty's government.”

“God bless the Mother Country,” Billy said.

“Can't we unseal it?” Michael asked. “We are supposed to have a special relationship after all.”

Higgins scowled even more. “I've tried. All I've been able to get out of some bureaucrat called Lester is that this, Stephen Hart, is a researcher and not to be harmed.” Higgins' impression of an English accent made Billy wince and exaggeratedly rub at his head.

“And how are we explaining the uncanny resemblance between these two?” Michael asked.

Higgins shrugged. “Adventurous mothers? I don't know, and frankly I don't care. They're sending over some representatives.” Higgins consulted a scrap of paper on his desk. “A Nick Cutter and a Jenny Lewis. Until they arrive he stays in our custody.”

“It seems a shame,” Billy said, “that my compatriot has to stay in an uncomfortable cell when I have a perfectly adequate spare room.”

“Absolutely not,” Higgins said.

Michael and Casey exchanged knowing glances and then stared at Billy. Billy refused to meet their gaze and instead stared at Martinez, who just looked his usual confused self. The fact that his team could read him so well was an asset in the field, but in the office it was more of a hindrance.

* * * * *

Billy resisted visiting Stephen in his cell for a whole day, but then the itch that needed to be scratched just got too much for him. He didn't really understand it. He wasn't particularly narcissistic (well, no more than anyone else with his looks and charm), but ever since he'd encountered his doppelgänger he hadn't been able to stop thinking about him.

He loved the spy game – the subterfuge, the excitement, the exaggerated persona, and he was damned good at it. So slipping away from his team mates and getting himself inside Stephen's room was an invigorating challenge.

Stephen, for his part, didn't seem particularly surprised to see Billy, but then Stephen didn't exactly wear his emotions on his sleeve. Billy wondered what Stephen's screams sounded like, and bit his bottom lip to stop any more thoughts like that. Mixing business and pleasure was never a good idea.

Except of course, when it was.

“You know,” Billy said, making sure the door was securely closed behind him, “if you wanted to give me the name of your plastic surgeon, I'd really appreciate it.”

“You wouldn’t be able to find him in the phone book,” Stephen said.

“So you _have_ had plastic surgery to look like that.”

“Not the kind you mean. This,” Stephen touched his own face, “is all me. I just needed a little restructuring after an accident.”

“Looks like you were mauled by a tiger.”

Stephen snorted. “Among other things.”

They stared at each other for a moment. The air was thick with something that Billy didn't want to analyse too much. Stephen stood up and Billy felt the urge to step back and away, which was ridiculous. He was the trained one in the room, not this mysterious stranger.

There were two sharp raps on the door and they both jumped a little, sharing a cautionary smile as the guard outside shouted that Stephen's visitors had arrived.

“I should probably get going then,” Stephen said.

Billy nodded. “Aye. Wouldn’t want you to have the opportunity to spill any state secrets now, would we?”

Stephen leaned in very close and before Billy could do anything there was the soft press of lips against his own and the merest swipe of tongue.

“Nice to have met you, Billy Collins.”

“Likewise,” Billy managed to say, before Stephen stepped out of the room, and out of his life.

With only a CIA sanctioned tracking device hidden in his clothing to remember them by.


End file.
